


Gentle Ashes

by thievinghippo



Series: Skylar Ryder - Andromeda [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Euthanasia, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thievinghippo/pseuds/thievinghippo
Summary: Eight hundred years after leaving the Milky Way Galaxy, Ellen Ryder wakes up.
Relationships: Alec Ryder/Ellen Ryder, Jaal Ama Darav/Female Ryder | Sara
Series: Skylar Ryder - Andromeda [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116467
Comments: 16
Kudos: 39





	Gentle Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Character deaths are mentioned, but are all off-stage, so to speak.

“Phoenix Speaks:  
Within this urn of stillness  
I slumber in deep sleep

Awaiting brave Helios  
to warm my gentle ashes

Igniting the flame within my soul  
once again I fly to the heavens”

― Ramon Ravenswood, Icons Speak

* * *

**Andromeda - year 2999 Earth Time**

Ellen wakes with a start, her heart racing, and reaches for a hand that isn’t there.

She hurts, oh _fuck_ , she hurts. She needs more pain meds. “Alec?” she croaks, her throat burning from what she will later learn is disuse. If Alec is in the room with her, he’ll make sure the nurses give her more pain meds. She’s going to die within the next couple of hours, after all. The least they can do is make sure she’s not uncomfortable. “Alec?”

There’s no answer.

Even though she’s too tired to be worried, she’s worried. He _promised_. Alec promised he would be by her side until the very end. _I’ll be here until you take your last breath._ That’s been her one fear, throughout all of this: that she’ll pass on without anyone by her side.

Alec promised that she won’t be alone.

She decides he’s gone to the fresher while she was napping. Ellen takes a deep breath and tries to sit up in her hospital bed. Her muscles decide not to obey and for the millionth time since her AEND diagnosis, she curses the disease.

Resting on her side and propped up by her forearm, Ellen realizes she’s not the only one in the room. For a moment, for one beautiful, glorious moment, she thinks it’s Alec standing in the shadows, before realizing the build is too slight. Scott, then. Skylar?

“Hello Ellen.”

She recoils at the sound of SAM’s voice. Hatred is too complicated of a word to describe her feelings for SAM. As much as Ellen wants to blame the AI for her husband’s downfall, she knows Alec truly is the one at fault. That, and her own carelessness with eezo over the years. If she had just been more cautious, she might never have gotten sick, and Alec wouldn’t have become obsessed with illegal AI technology.

If only, if only.

There’s no sign of SAM’s portable interface in the room. In fact, there’s not much of a sign of anything else in the room except the bed she lay in. Which, looking down, doesn’t seem like a standard hospital bed. “SAM?” Ellen asks, her stomach clenching. This is not the room she remembers. “What’s going on?”

The figure steps out of the shadows, wearing a uniform of some type. Certainly not a uniform she’s ever seen before. Their hair is tied at the base of their neck and Ellen sees just a hint of makeup on their face. “I’m here, Ellen,” the person says, using SAM’s voice.

Something is not right. Something is very, very wrong. “You have a body,” she whispers, looking more closely as the person steps towards her. A body that looks to be somewhere in between Skylar and Scott, with their darker coloring and green eyes. Her heart aches for her children, knowing she’s never going to see them again. But that was her choice, to save them from the worse of her AEND disease, which comes at the very end.

Let them remember Ellen Ryder whole.

“I do, yes,” SAM says with more emotion than Ellen remembers the AI capable of. “Artificial, but I’m pleased with it.”

Ellen tries to find the right words, but fails. Is there a greeting card for this sort of thing? _Congratulations on your body?_ How in the world did SAM even get a body with the Citadel Council breathing down Alec’s neck? Nothing is making sense right now, most of all that her husband is MIA hours before she’s going to die.

“Forgive me, Ellen,” SAM says as they walk right up to the not-a-hospital-bed. Before she even has a chance to protest, SAM injects a syringe into her neck. “This is time-sensitive.”

Rubbing her neck, she asks, trying not to sound angry, “What did you just do to me?” This is why she needs Alec here, to be her advocate for bullshit like this. Except she’s fairly certain Alec wouldn’t stop SAM in something like this, not when he trusts the AI so much.

“Your AEND disease has been cured.”

She has no words. He did it. The son-of-a-bitch did it. Alec told her from the beginning that somehow they were going to beat this thing and somehow he actually pulled it off. A last minute hail mary pass that only Alec Ryder could manage. She loves him more than anything right now. How many years together with their family has he just given her? But where _is_ he?

Without warning, Ellen starts laughing. Starts laughing at the absurdity of the last three years of her life, dying by degrees. Saying goodbye to her children, seemingly for forever, trying to sound resigned and wise, imparting advice for the ages, when all she wanted to do was set the galaxy on fucking fire. And behind her back, Alec must have been working on some last minute cure. Probably illegal, if she knows her husband. Just like him not to tell her so she wouldn’t get her hopes up.

“Ellen.”

Something in SAM’S voice stops her laughter. The AI sounds almost distraught. Ellen sits back up and leans against the pillows. “SAM,” she says quietly, gripping the blanket like a lifeline. “Where’s Alec?”

#

Ellen stares out the window, overlooking a pretty sort of public garden. Plenty of practical plots for fruits and vegetables plus a couple just for flowers. It’s just as beautiful as anything she ever saw on Earth, simply in the wrong galaxy. Even though she just heard the door shut behind her, she turns to make sure she’s alone in the room.

She is.

Dropping down to her haunches, Ellen clenches her teeth and tries not to scream.

Her husband is dead.

Her children are dead.

Her grandchildren are dead.

Almost five generations of Ryders in this god-forsaken galaxy are dead.

What has Alec _done_?

#

She wants to ignore the knock on the door, she really does. But Ellen is also a realist. SAM left the room maybe three hours ago. If they truly ‘cured’ her, there will be doctors that need to run tests. There are forms to fill out. It’s almost more exhausting filling out the datawork than being sick.

“Hello, there,” comes the voice from the door. It’s an accent she can’t place, but that makes sense, doesn’t it? Humanity has been in Andromeda for almost two hundred years. Of course accents and language will change. “SAM said you wanted to be alone, but I really need to do some tests.”

“Of course,” Ellen says, her voice flat. Tests to confirm that she’s cured. In the Andromeda galaxy. Alone. “Whatever you need.”

She listens to the footsteps coming towards her, not bothering to turn around. Even when the man stands next to her, Ellen keeps staring out the window.

“I know the words of a stranger won’t mean much,” the man says, “but I’m sorry for your loss.” Losses, she wants to correct him, but instead keeps her mouth shut. There’s silence then; he’s clearly expecting her to thank him. Finally just before the awkwardness of the silence turns to hostility, the man claps his hands together once. “Why don’t I try introducing myself? I’m Hester Ryder.”

That does catch her attention. Ellen turns and sees a man in his early thirties, about Alec’s height. Darker skin than either side of the family, but his eyes… His eyes are _green_ , just like Scott and Skylar. “Ryder?”

Hester nods, seeming pleased with himself. “I’m your great-great-great-great grandson,” he says, counting off the greats with his fingers.

Ellen waits, wanting to feel some sort of connection with the man in front of her. But there’s nothing. She never was one to dream about grandchildren, not when she made it her goal to raise two independent children, complete themselves, without the need for a partner or a child. Scott and Skylar never expressed much of an interest in either, though they left her life so young, only twenty-one years. Who knows how they changed after they thought she died?

“Nice to meet you,” Ellen says, not really meaning the words.

Hester snorts, a sound that reminds her so much of Scott that she takes another look. “I know we’ve just thrown almost two hundred years at you. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and when he speaks again, Ellen can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Just so you know, there are a lot of people, really excited to meet you.”

“How can they be excited about a woman they’ve never met?”

“Stories,” Hester says with a shrug. “You’re family lore that’s been passed down through generations. We all knew that we had to keep your pod going, no matter what.”

That sounds like Alec, Ellen thinks. Probably gave standing orders to the kids, made the protection of her pod a mission or something.

“Lucky me,” Ellen says, not even bothering to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Hester has the good sense to ignore her words. “May I?” Hester asks, holding up his omni-tool. Curious, Ellen focuses on the difference from the one she would have had more than eight hundred years ago. The interface looks more solid, larger, more comfortable. Already she’s wondering what she could do with one.

Hester coughs, and Ellen nods. “Go ahead.”

“We can get you one of these,” Hester says, gesturing towards his ‘tool. “Everything is looking good so far. I was a little worried about that cause I… Well, I helped create the cure and I’ve been trying to figure out how to casually slip that into a sentence and nothing worked.” He grins, and again, she’s reminded of Scott. Was this one of his descendants? “I’m giving you a clear bill of health.”

Excitement seems to be radiating off of Hester; he’s clearly proud of himself. Right now, Ellen isn’t sure if she wants to thank him or not for curing her. Right now, she’s furious at the galaxy and most of all her long-dead husband and the trust he violated.

“Thank you,” she finally says, ignoring how the words sound hollow. They remind her of words exchanged between her and Alec towards the end. _No, I don’t mind that you’re working late again. It’s fine that you’ve been disgraced; we’ll get through this as a family. I don’t resent SAM and how they’re taking you away from me._

“Ellen?” Hester asks and her shoulders slump in relief that he didn’t try to call her _grandma_. Anything but that. “I’d like to introduce you to my mother, if you don’t mind. We’ve sort of decided she’ll be the one to help you with things while you get settled.”

“That’s fine,” she says. A mother might understand Ellen’s anguish more than a son or daughter would. Hester smiles and again she’s reminded of Scott. “Hester?”

The joy on his face at her question is a bit overwhelming. “Yes? Anything I can do?”

“I had two children. Do you know who…”

She’s not sure how to phrase the question but Hester picks up her meaning right away. “Skylar,” he says at once. “Any grandchildren you have are Skylar’s. Scott didn’t have any children.”

“Oh,” Ellen says as tears start to well. She hasn’t cried yet, not even after SAM first told her the news. But the enormity of what she’ll need to do makes her want to curl up and cry. She’ll need to learn about her children’s lives through the extranet. Find out how they lived and died. It doesn’t seem fair. It’s _not_ fair.

The Initiative sent colonists to a new galaxy, for fuck’s sake. How could Alec just assume that there’d be time and resources to devote to an obscure disease during his or their children’s lifetime? She knows the truth. He didn’t think that far ahead. He only thought of himself and the day when he stood alone without her for support. Selfish. That’s the word she would now have to use when thinking of her husband. _Selfish._

“Let me bring in my mom,” Hester says. The slight panic in his voice makes her want to laugh. Clearly he’s not one to deal with emotion. Maybe he truly is Skylar’s descendant after all.

Minutes pass and Hester returns with a woman around Ellen’s age. Her coloring is closer to Skylar’s, though her hair is a dark bronze that Ellen can’t imagine is natural. Absolutely beautiful, though. “I’m Hope Ryder,” she says, offering her hand.

“Ellen,” she says as they shake.

“I can give you the quick version of what happened to Skylar and Scott, if you want,” Hope says. Her voice is calm. Serene. Very different from the nervous energy projected by Hester. “That’s what I’d want to know in your shoes.”

 _You’re not in my shoes,_ Ellen thinks as she struggles not to clench her jaw. “Not yet,” she says after a moment’s thought. Skylar had children. Scott did not. That’s enough for now. “I’ll take you up on that soon, though.”

Hope nods and perhaps Ellen is projecting, but she swears she sees pity in the woman’s eyes. That’s the last thing she wants. Pity. “Hester, are we free to leave?”

“I’d like a follow up in three days,” he says, rocking on his heels.

Hope places her hand on Hester’s cheek. “You’ve done good, son,” she says quietly. “We’re all proud of you.”

And that’s what causes the dam to break. Everything about Hope reminds her of _Alec_ , not her children. The quiet, unassuming nature. The lilt in her voice. These aren’t just Skylar’s descendants. They’re hers and Alec’s. Ellen walks to the window, her fist covering her mouth, trying to ignore the tears as they start to fall. She’s missed so much. So fucking much. How in the world will she ever catch up?

“If it were up to Hester, you’d be the guest of honor at the party of the century,” Hope says. She talks as if her great-great-great grandmother wasn’t silently sobbing in front of her. Ellen can’t thank her enough for that. “I’d like to think I’ve got a better idea of how to handle things. I’ve got a small apartment. Two bedrooms. It’s quiet. Thought you might want to stay with me for a bit, until you figure out what to do next.”

Quiet sounds just about perfect right now but the last thing she wants is to be an inconvenience. “Your family?”

Hope chuckles and Ellen finds herself smiling. This is a woman she might be able to call a friend. “Two sons. Both are married. One’s got a little girl named Neela. Hester’s wife is due in a couple of months. As for me? Ugly divorce so I haven’t really been interested in finding someone to take her place.”

“Fair enough,” Ellen says, thinking of those few times she and Alec headed toward that same direction. But they always found a way to repair the damage and be stronger for it. This, though? What he’s done? She doesn’t know if there’s any way to repair that. One day she’ll have to figure it out. Not today, though. “It sounds like a wonderful offer, Hope. Thank you.”

An hour later, sunlight touches Ellen Ryder’s face for the first time in more than eight hundred years.

#

“Hope?”

Maybe it’s the combination of fear and curiosity in Ellen’s voice, but Hope seems to know _exactly_ what Ellen wants to know. “You ready to learn about your babies?” she asks, arching a brow.

Ellen takes a deep breath, all the way down to her toes, and confirms the decision for herself. “Yes, please.”

She’s been awake for a week now. A week of wondering, of typing in _Alec Ryder,_ _Scott Ryder,_ and _Skylar Ryder_ into a search engine, only to not have the energy to press _search._ Hearing the news from someone else will be much easier than reading it on an omni-tool. Ellen walks into the small living room and sits on an overstuffed chair that she’s starting to consider hers.

A week of leaving messages unread. Hope seems to have thought of everything for Ellen’s awakening. The first thing her granddaughter—and how fucking strange to think that a woman older than her is her _granddaughter_ —did is give Ellen an omni-tool, already set with current translation programs and some simple History of Andromeda apps.

It also includes a public extranet address of her very own.

The one time Ellen checked her inbox there were more than one hundred messages waiting for her. All from relatives, Hope told her, who have been waiting a long time for the day Ellen wakes. She can’t bring herself to read any of the messages, not yet. Not when she doesn’t know her own children’s fate. She’s not ready to meet these hordes of people who say they’re related to her.

Not ready to talk to any of them, either. So she stays hidden in Hope’s apartment and tries not to feel guilty as Hope fields messages and tells disappointed family members that Ellen isn’t ready to speak to anyone yet.

“Alec first,” she says, bringing her legs underneath her. Hope is sitting on the sofa, legs crossed. The living room is small, but comfortable. Much nicer than some of the pre-fabs Ellen lived in while growing up in Brazil back in the Milky Way. To any outsider, they would look like two women simply conversing. But Ellen knows better. “Then the twins.”

Hope looks away just long enough for Ellen’s stomach to clench. This can’t be a good sign. “From what I was told, Alec died on their very first expedition in Andromeda. Died to save Skylar’s life.”

Ellen’s eyes close. She’s still furious with Alec—how can she not be?—but Andromeda was his dream. Whether he was running away or finding a fresh start, she’ll never know, but her heart hurts that his dream was so short lived. And her heart aches for her children, for Skylar and Scott, to be forced to navigate this new galaxy without their father. Alec might have died two hundred years ago, but only a week has passed for her.

That’s when it really hits her. She’s a widow. She’s not thought of herself like that until now. But it’s true. Back when Alec was an N7 and leaving for secret missions all over the galaxy, Ellen always understood that could be her fate. That young fresh-faced Alliance officers might end up at her door, ready to tell her the news in person. Always a risk in his line of work. But then she went and switched the game, contracting a disease that would eventually make him a widower. No wonder he changed the rules. That’s what he did. What he’s always done.

And why she loves him.

Ellen rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. Only a week and she’s having a hard time picturing Alec’s face and hearing Alec’s voice. Perhaps there are pictures of the original Initiative founders. One day she’ll have to check. But first, her children. “Scott and Skylar?”

Funny how it’s always ‘Scott and Skylar’ in her head and not ‘Skylar and Scott.’ Her daughter had a lot to say about that growing up, considering she thought _she_ should be first, since she’s older by two minutes. Scott never seemed to care, but Ellen thinks he was secretly pleased.

Hope taps her finger on her lips and Ellen is ready to take the question back. What could have possibly happened to make Hope hesitate?

“Think it’ll be best if you hear from Skylar herself,” Hope says as she stands up from the sofa. “She had a lot to say.”

“What?” Ellen asks, not even trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.

A smile slowly spreads across Hope’s face. “Pretty sure you’ll like this.”

#

 _Hi Mom, it’s me. Well, you know that,_ Skylar says with a smile, pushing her hair behind her ears.

“She’s letting her hair grow out,” Ellen whispers as she pauses the vid. Without thinking, her fingers brush the screen of her omni-tool, the closest she’s been to Skylar in eight hundred years. Her daughter looks happy, radiant, even. She’s wearing makeup, which is a rare, and a simple dress, which is even rarer. Skylar Ryder did not like dresses.

_So I’ve decided to start a video series for you. Because… it’s gonna take longer than I hoped to get you out. We’ve been in Andromeda for five years and we’ve lost so much. Our doctors have so much to do. I can’t ask them in good conscience to push things aside to research a cure for your disease. Not yet. I’m not gonna be like Dad and be selfish like that, you know?_

Ellen pauses the vid, listening to her daughter call Alec selfish. They sting, but she can’t deny them. What Alec did was incredibly selfish. There’s a relief in hearing Skylar say that, a validation almost. Makes Ellen’s own anger at her husband seem more justified.

_Therefore, from here on out, when there are important days you won’t be here for, I’ll make a video. Then some day, we’ll be able to watch them together. It’ll be fun, I promise. Like you were there with us. So what important day is today, you ask?_

The vid pauses as Ellen jumps up from her chair. The styled hair, the makeup, the dress. This could only be one thing. Skylar must have listened to her dying mother’s bedside advice. She fell in love. Covering her mouth with a shaking hand, Ellen presses play.

Skylar reaches her hand out of view of the video screen. A moment later, a scarred angara appears. _Mom, this is Jaal Ama Darav, the love of my life._ Ellen’s heart soars at the pride on the angara’s face as Skylar says those words. _And we’re getting married today. Jaal’s already met you, well, sort of. He’s gone to your stasis chamber a few times to say hi. But I wanted you to meet him in person?_ Skylar looks at Jaal and lets out a laugh. A clear, pure laugh, one Ellen can never hear enough. _That doesn’t sound right._

 _Hello Ellen Ryder,_ Jaal says, putting his arm around Skylar as he looks at the camera. _I will cherish your daughter for the rest of my days. She is my heart and the protector of my soul._

Is Jaal handsome? Ellen can’t really tell. She can count the number of angara she’s met on one hand this past week. Not because they haven’t been around. But because she’s rarely left Hope’s apartment. Ellen takes a moment to study Jaal. Charismatic, certainly. Rugged, perhaps? Especially with the scars. She’s not all that surprised that Skylar ended up with an alien, if she’s perfectly honest. Her daughter’s only other serious relationship had been with a volus eight hundred years ago and she never expressed much interest in humans.

_Come on, you two. Are you ready?_

Ellen pauses the vid again, startled at the sound of Scott’s voice. Hope told her only Skylar made videos, that the word passed down through generations was Scott could never think of anything to say. So to hear his voice… She lets the vid run for a few seconds, wondering if Scott will make an appearance.

And then he does. Wearing an ill-fitted suit and looking so much like his father at the same age that Ellen almost wants to burst into tears.

 _Say hi to Mom,_ Skylar says, waving Scott over.

 _You’re really doing this video thing?_ Scott asks.

 _You saw the projections. It could be another ten years before we have spare researchers. I’m getting_ married _today, Scotty. I want Mom here, even if it’s just a vid,_ Skylar says. There’s more emotion in Skylar’s voice than Ellen is used to. Her little robot, Ellen used to say. Skylar had such a hard time processing her feelings, even after years of therapy. To see her easily go from joy to annoyance back to happiness within moments is a gift. An absolute gift.

Scott holds up his hands in surrender. _Hi Mom,_ he says, not really looking at the camera. Ellen closes her eyes. That moment is enough. It’s absolutely enough.

 _So generous,_ Skylar says with a laugh. Ellen watches as she looks at the angara who will be her husband soon. She remembers that look. Right now, at this very moment in the vid, almost two hundred years ago, the only people in Andromeda are Skylar and Jaal. Just like the moment Ellen first saw Alec on their wedding day. They were the only two people in the Milky Way.

 _Half the Heleus Cluster is waiting for you two to get married. Get a move on already,_ Scott says.

Jaal stands first, holding his hand out to Skylar. Just before the two of them step out of view of the camera, Jaal says, _I love your daughter more than life itself, Ellen Ryder._

 _Love you, Mom!_ Skylar says as she disappears.

Ellen waits for Scott to turn off the camera, but to her surprise, he sits down and stares directly at her. It’s unnerving almost, looking right into Scott’s dark green eyes. _Don’t worry, Mom. I’m keeping her out of trouble. Skylar’s got a lot on her shoulders, but we’re not letting her kill herself. And you’ll see this in the ceremony vid, but I’m walking her down the aisle._

That’s the moment the tears start. As a child, Skylar had to research different wedding customs for school. She focused on Brazilian and Malaysian ceremonies, thanks to her heritage. But when she came across the archaic tradition of walking the bride down the aisle, she always said she wanted Alec by her side. And now Alec is gone. Skylar is gone. Scott is gone.

And all she has are a handful of vids highlighting her daughter’s life.

The vid thankfully ends and Ellen practically rips her omni-tool off of her wrist and throws it on the bed, wanting to be as far away as possible. She’s overwhelmed, she’s absolutely overwhelmed and _fuck_ , what is she doing in this strange galaxy all by herself? How could Alec have done this to her? But she knows what she wanted didn’t matter at all to him. All he thought about was himself and what _he_ needed, not her.

She tries to stay quiet—the last thing Ellen needs is Hope wanting to check in on her—so she grabs a pillow off of the bed, covers her face, and screams. Screams until she’s hoarse and the tears stop.

Screams until she thinks she has nothing left.

#

Three months pass.

Three months pass and Ellen can’t make herself watch another video. There are plenty apparently not only Skylar made videos, but her children and a lot of her descendants did as well - but Ellen still can’t press _play._ But she does finally press _search_ on an extranet site and learns that both her children died far too young.

She walks into the kitchen and starts the caf maker. _Fuck,_ what she would give for a cup of actual coffee, not this caf bullshit that’s not even made from beans. When Ellen asked about coffee out of stasis, all she learned was that none of the planets had the right soil for coffee beans. Humanity’s gone so long without coffee that they don’t even miss it at this point.

But she does. Oh does she miss it. Ellen misses a lot of things, truth be told. Meridian doesn’t fit somehow, no matter how many hikes and tours she takes. Well, if she’s honest, she’s not really trying to make it fit. She’ll never forget the look on the therapist’s face when she started talking about what happened. Suppose _My husband put me in stasis without permission two hundred years ago_ probably isn’t covered in any textbook.

Ellen pours herself a cup of caf and decides it's time to make a decision. Hope has been patient, more patient than Ellen deserves, really. But her granddaughter has started to drop hints, that maybe it’s time to do something with this second chance.

Maybe she’s right.

“Hope?” Ellen says as she pours herself a second cup of caf. As far as Hope’s concerned, caf is the universe’s gift to all sentient species. It’s still strange to Ellen, to think that there are some humans in Andromeda who have never even heard of Earth. Just as it’s strange to consider that there are still some asari and krogan who lived back in the Milky Way. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Always a good thing,” Hope says as she sits down at the kitchen table.

“Not always,” Ellen says with a soft laugh. “I think I should go back to school.” Hope lifts one brow and rests her chin on her hand, clearly an invitation. “I’ve been doing some digging, about the bioelectrical fields that the angara have, and well…”

She thinks back to that flutter of excitement when she discovered the research, of how Initiative scientists are trying to merge biotics and bioelectrics, and how she realized she wanted to be a part of that. Science has always been her great love after her family and to feel that spark again, to wonder about what she might discover, gives her a chance at a purpose.

“Never really liked studying myself, but it sounds like you’ve found something to focus on,” Hope says, a satisfied smile crossing her lips.

Ellen’s mind starts racing at all the possibilities. There’s only one major university on Meridian, though there’s talk of another. Hope doesn’t live close to the school at all and if Ellen is going to do this, the last thing she wants is to waste time with a commute. She’ll have to move. And figure out how to support herself. Not to mention having to get caught up on all the latest research.

“Let’s make a list of what I’ll need to do.”

It’s a start.

#

_Alright, Mom, your eyes better be closed._

Ellen smiles, eyes closed, thrilled to be hearing Skylar’s voice again. Why did she wait so long to watch another video? A small, angry voice in her head whispers, _you know why._ Shaking her head, she ignores the voice and concentrates on Skylar instead.

_Okay, you can open them._

Ellen opens her eyes at once and can barely take in the sight in front of her. Skylar and Jaal are standing side by side and each one is holding… _We had twins!_

She can’t help herself. A peel of laughter escapes as she pauses her omni-tool. With the video paused, she studies the scene in front of her. Skylar is holding a tiny angara, who is a lovely shade of blue. And Jaal is holding what looks to be a newborn human. Right away Ellen can tell that the child is Skylar’s—the baby has a ridiculous amount of hair already, just like Scott and Skylar did—but decides to wait for the full story.

 _Okay, so not_ twin _twins, but they were only born two weeks apart, so we’re going to raise them as twins._ Skylar holds up the angara to the camera, carefully cradling their head. _This is Vesoaan. It’s an old angara word for ‘explorer.’ We’re going to call him Ves, though. And this._ She nudges Jaal in the shoulder, who immediately brings the other newborn to the camera. _Is Scout. No nickname for him, cause how do you shorten Scout? Also, his name is kind of to honor Scott, but please do not ever tell him because I won’t be able to live that down._

A thousand questions run through Ellen’s head. Her daughter had a _baby_. Instinctively, she knew that. In order for Hope and Hester and the few other family members she’s met to exist, Skylar raised children. But to see them… To see the radiant joy on Skylar’s face, not to mention the bags under her eyes—oh how Ellen remembers that feeling like it was _yesterday_ —makes everything real.

 _Everyone wants to know the details and we’re not telling people because it’s just not their business. But if you were here…_ Skylar looks off to the side and Ellen can see tears in the corner of her eyes. _When I went into labor, all I could think about was ‘I wish Mom was here.’_

Ellen’s heart clenches, knowing that if her wishes had been respected, she wouldn’t have been there for that moment anyway. Instead she was frozen in time because of her husband’s selfish dream. Skylar looks away, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. Just as Ellen is about to yell at Jaal to do something, anything to comfort her daughter, he puts his free arm around Skylar’s shoulders, holding Scout in his other arm.

Skylar’s eyes squeeze tight. _Great. I’ve probably made you totally feel guilty which is the exact opposite of what I want._ She looks up at Jaal. _Should we edit this out?_

Shaking his head, Jaal says, _You are showing your true emotions, my darling one. There is no greater gift._

 _Right. That._ Skylar takes a deep breath and leans in to Jaal. _You get details. Only a couple of other people do, like Jaal’s true mother. Long story short, I used an anonymous donor to get pregnant, so Scout is my biological son. Jaal is Ves’s biological father with an anonymous donor and we had a surrogate. And no. We are not having any more children. We have healthy twin boys, so we’ve got everything we need._

“You really do,” Ellen whispers as Jaal leans down to kiss Skylar’s temple. She can already tell that Skylar will have more support than Ellen ever did as a new mother, with two screaming children on a space station where no one quite trusted humans yet. Not to mention a husband who disappeared for weeks at time. Skylar would have hard times; probably _had_ hard times, Ellen corrects herself. But what new mother doesn’t have moments of doubt?

 _We will have plenty in our family. Kesh’s children. Cora’s daughter. Liam’s child. Our family is beautiful._ The look of delight on Jaal’s face is contagious, even through the years, and Ellen lets out a laugh at his joy. They deserve no less.

_And bountiful. Kesh has four children already. These guys are gonna have a lot of cousins._

“Kesh…” Ellen delves back into some memories. The name sounds vaguely familiar somehow. It also sounds krogan. And krogan live a long, long time. If this Kesh is krogan and had children, they could possibly be alive. They might remember Scott and Skylar.

As the video ends with Skylar and Jaal waving Scout and Ves’s little hands at the camera, Ellen decides to do some digging.

#

Ellen tries to remember the last time she lived alone. Oh she’s lived by herself plenty, with Alec always away on missions. But when could she last make all the decisions about her living space? Which dinnerware or flatware she likes best? What color walls? When was the last time she didn’t have to worry about someone else’s belongings?

She grew used to the safety of four walls in Hope’s small apartment. Now she has a studio of her very own in New Antartica, near the university. The thought of being a student again after all this time is slightly terrifying. But Ellen can be honest. It’s also invigorating. For so long in the Milky Way, she was the one teaching others. She can’t even remember the last time she was taught something new in regards to biotics.

The place is sparse, but that will change. All students get a monthly stipend for living expenses and surely there will be money for decor? And for books to line her bookcase. Though it’s then Ellen realizes she’s not seen a single hardcover or paper book in Andromeda. She thinks back to her and Alex’s shared office on the Citadel. They had one wall with floor to ceiling bookcases, all full to the brim with their favorite books. She wonders what happened to them after she died.

With that thought in mind, Ellen opens a small box, made from real wood back from Earth. A Ryder hand-me-down that Hope gave her as a moving out present. Inside the box lay a chip. On this tiny chip are more than two thousand videos, all made for her.

Skylar wasn’t the only one to make vids for Ellen. Her descendants have been busy.

Hope gave Ellen the facts. She had two grandsons, five great-grandchildren, seventeen great-great grandchildren, twenty-one great-great-great-great grandchildren, and twenty-nine great-great-great-great-great grandchildren. And those are only the ones who made videos. Over the two centuries, plenty decided not to make vids and lost touch.

Ellen isn’t ready to watch all the videos. Not yet. Eventually, she’ll make her way through Skylar’s videos. Then hopefully Scout’s and Ves’s, since they played such a large part of Skylar’s life. She supposes she’ll learn to care for Scout’s children, for Ves’s. Eventually they do lead to Hope and to Hester, after all.

But for now, she’ll keep the vids close. Maybe one day. Maybe one day, she’ll be ready.

#

“And this is Georgia,” Hester says as he hands the bundle to Ellen.

Her great-great-great-great-great granddaughter. “Georgia? That seems like a very Milky Way name,” Ellen says as she looks down at the baby.

It’s something she’s noticed, names being different. Some are classics that will never lose popularity, like Hope. But more often than not she hears names that sound just a bit off. Or named for plants and flowers in Andromeda. Famous places, like Dromos or Tero.

“I like old-fashioned names,” Phaidra, Hester’s wife, says. “We thought about Huerta, but Georgia won out. I think my family in the Milky Way is from there.”

“The state or the country?” Ellen asks absently as Georgia wraps her fingers around Ellen’s pinky.

Phaidra shrugs. “No idea,” she says. “The idea of countries just sounds so quaint.”

Ellen holds back a retort. That’s something else she’s noticed. Citizens of Andromeda basically trashing the lifestyles of those who lived in the Milky Way, convinced that things are so much superior here in Andromeda.

The scientist in her is so curious. Eight hundred years have passed since she last lived in the Milky Way. How has the galaxy evolved? What might humanity look like now? Is Earth still there? Is the Citadel still the seat of galactic power? On dark days, she wonders what it will take to get back to the Milky Way. There’s always rumors of ships slipping out to make the journey.

But there is nothing left in the Milky Way for her now. At least here, Ellen thinks, looking down at Georgia, trying to find a resemblance to Scott or Skylar, but seeing absolutely nothing in her little face. No matter. This is Skylar’s great-great-great-great granddaughter. Since Skylar isn’t here to love this little girl, Ellen will be here to love her in her place.

#

There’s a knock on the door and Ellen practically jumps out of her skin. Silly, really. She arranged this meeting, including the time. She has nothing to be afraid of. And yet she’s terrified.

Another knock and Ellen decides to pull herself together. Taking a deep breath that goes all the way down to her toes, she walks to her front door. Through the small window in the door, she sees the outline of a krogan.

A krogan who knew Scott and Skylar.

She opens the door. “You must be Nakmor Kesh.”

“And you must be Ellen Ryder.”

Ellen feels like she’s being judged, standing in the doorway like this. She wonders if Kesh ever heard of her. Maybe Scott or Skylar mentioned their mother in a conversation? Maybe they told Kesh the secret of the stasis chamber? Or maybe Kesh just feels sorry for an old woman who misses her children.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me, Kesh,” Ellen says as she gestures Kesh to come inside. Kesh is smaller than Ellen thought she’d be, but then again, she’s still not seen that many female krogan. Never in the Milky Way and only a few in Andromeda. The krogan prefer to stick to New Tuchanka, which from what she hears, is thriving.

“This is a chance to go over some interesting memories,” Kesh says. “The Ryder twins were pretty unforgettable.”

Ellen smiles at that. As they grew older, if they had anything like Alec’s charisma, Andromeda didn’t have a chance. “I can imagine,” she says as they sit down.

Kesh isn’t the first visitor she’s had. Hope comes over for dinner once a week. Hope’s sons, Hester and Omar have been over a few times, though they’re both busy with their young families. But Kesh is the first non-Ryder that Ellen has invited over.

Ellen is progressing in her studies, but most of the students are so much younger than her. Thankfully, though, no one knows her as the woman who’s been in stasis for two hundred years like she feared. The last thing Ellen wants is to be in a museum.

“Shall we talk Skylar or Scott first?”

“Skylar,” Ellen says after a moment’s thought. Skylar was older by two minutes, after all.

Kesh’s fingers dug into her thighs. “I considered Skylar a clutch-sister by the end. We raised our children together,” Kesh says.

Ellen can only wonder about that sort of friendship between women. She certainly didn’t have anything like that on the Citadel when Scott and Skylar were babies. “Good, I’m so glad she had friends.”

“She truly did. Jaal adored her, more than anything in the galaxy. People respected her. The Initiative listened to what she had to say,” Kesh says. She lets out a laugh. “Hell, even New Tuchanka listened to what she had to say, and they hardly listen to anyone.”

Her little robot, who had thrown up in grade school because she had to give a speech in front of her class. To become… this. Ellen is so proud.

“Thank you,” Ellen whispers, her heart clenching at the gift she has been given. She’ll learn so much more from the vids. But this is enough right now. “And Scott?”

Kesh closed her eyes. “He died far younger than he should have. I’m no good with human ages, but I vaguely remember that he was in his forties, I think. Died a hero, during our war with the Kett. Shame. He had become a damn fine engineer.”

“An engineer?” Ellen asks, secretly delighted. When Scott and Skylar were children, she and Alex would try to guess what they’d want to be when they grew up. And Ellen always said Scott would be an engineer, and follow in Skylar’s footsteps. Looks like she was right. If Alex was still alive, he’d owe her a credit.

“That’s Gil’s influence for you. Gil Brody was his husband,” Kesh says. “Also an engineer. I wouldn’t say he was better than me, but he came a close second.”

“And this Gil?”

“Gil and Scott became inseparable after they met. Gil actually had a daughter, but he and Scott considered themselves more of her uncles than her fathers,” Kesh says.

Ellen takes a deep breath, so grateful to know that Scott also followed her advice and fell in love. But what a tragedy the way the romance ended. “And then Scott died. Young,” Ellen says, trying not to sound bitter.

“So Scott might have died young. Lots of people do. But Scott had a husband who loved him, and nephews who adored him. Plus he saved a lot of lives when he sacrificed his life. Not much more you can ask for,” Kesh says, leaning back in her chair.

There’s something to be said about that. Even a short well-lived life is important. All lives are important.

“Have you known all the Ryders?” Ellen asks, almost afraid to find out. So many grandchildren and great-grandchildren dead for years now. How can she ever learn about them all? Does she even want to?

Months ago, the answer was no. But now? She thinks of Skylar, of the hope she had making the vids, completely confident that one day, she’d be able to watch them with her mother. Maybe all of the Ryders who made vids hoped the same thing. _One day, I’ll watch this with grandma._

How can Ellen ever deny them that? Scott and Skylar are lost to her, except for vids. But her descendants don’t have to be.

“I can’t keep track of all of them,” Kesh says honestly. “My children considered Ves and Scout their cousins. But after Scout and Ves passed, we lost track.”

“Scout and Ves,” Ellen says tentatively. “Could you tell me about them?”

Kesh nods slowly and starts to talk.

#

Ellen’s heart starts to clench the moment she sees Skylar’s face in the vid. Skylar’s clearly been crying, curled in, like she’s missing a part of herself. In the corner, there’s a year. 2843. And Ellen knows exactly what this video is going to be about.

Can she handle this? Watching Skylar tell her about Scott’s death? Ellen didn’t have any siblings growing up, no cousins or children of close family friends. She always did love the idea of having a brother or a sister, or someone who would be there no matter what, when times got tough. When she and Alec married so many years ago, they decided to only have one child; both of them were so busy with their careers.

And then Ellen learned she was pregnant with twins and she was absolutely thrilled. She knew the odds. Alec, as an N7, might not come home one day. But she would have the twins and they would have each other.

Now Skylar is going to tell Ellen that her brother, Ellen’s _son_ , is dead. She presses play. Her daughter had to live through Scott’s death. The least Ellen can do is witness this. She owes Skylar that much.

The first thing Skylar does is hold up a black piece of paper. She’s sitting in what looks to be a prefab kitchen of some sort, very different from her warm living room where she makes most of the vids. Even more disconcerting is that Skylar is wearing armor, the blue and white colors of the Initiative. The armor looked well-cared for but also well-used.

 _This is new_ , Skylar says, sniffing. She rubs her eyes with her free hand. _I have no idea when we’ll be able to watch these videos. I’m never going to remember the order they’re in. So when you see someone holding up a black card, that means there’s sad news._

 _Mommy!_ Ellen recognizes the voice calling from off-camera. Ves. Sometimes he and Scout are in the videos with Skylar. If her math is right, the twins should be about twelve years old now.

 _Baby, I know,_ Skylar says, a pained look crossing her face. _I’m talking to Grandma. You know that’s important._ Ellen closes her eyes at that, at the easy way Skylar calls her Grandma to a boy Ellen will never know.

Ves runs over and throws his arms around Skylar’s shoulders. _I don’t want to go. Do we have to?_

Skylar runs her hand over Ves’s head as he almost nuzzles her neck. _I know, Vesoaan, my brave boy. We’ll be back some day. It’s just not safe here._

Ellen just watches the scene, transfixed. These are actually the moments of the videos she cherishes the most, the interruptions, the spontaneity, when she truly gets a glimpse into her daughter’s life. However, this video is different from all the other vids she’s watched over the last six months. This video is laced with fear and uncertainty.

 _Jaal!_ Skylar calls to her husband off camera. _Ves, you need to go to Papa. Scout’s there. The three of you are going to take a trip and I’ll meet you later._

Ellen’s blood runs cold at Skylar’s words, words so similar to the ones Alec would tell Scott and Skylar a lifetime ago. Alec, always staying behind and promising to catch up later. From the Andromeda history she’s learned, she is aware there was a war, but to actually see Skylar and her family live through those times is chilling.

Ves nods and runs off camera. Skylar watches him go and oh is that a look she saw on Alec’s face a thousand times through the years. The look of a parent wondering if they’ll ever see their child again.

 _I’m part of a team to try to negotiate with the Kett. Long story I don’t have time to go into,_ Skylar says. She takes a breath and seemingly prepares herself. Ellen readies herself as well, knowing that she needs to hear the words to make them real.

 _Scott was killed yesterday, Mom._ Skylar looks up at the ceiling. _That’s the first time I’ve actually said the words out loud. Jaal is the one who told me and the boys. Scott is dead. I try to tell myself that he died saving the lives of a lot of people. But that still doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead. I really wished I believed in reincarnation like Jaal does. It’s going to be very hard to learn how to live in a world without him._

Ellen nods. She’s learning how to navigate life without her husband and children every day. It’s a lesson she’s never asked for, never wanted. But it’s the only path she has to travel, so Ellen will continue to walk, even when she wants to hide away.

_Okay, and here’s some more not great news. But if you’re watching this vid, that means it all worked out and you can yell at me for being over dramatic or something. We’re rationing like something crazy, Mom. Food, water, supplies. Energy._

Skylar leans forward and buries her face in her arms, resting on the kitchen table. Almost thirty seconds pass before Skylar looks up again. She takes a deep breath and looks back at the camera.

 _I’m going to call in every favor I’m owed to keep your stasis pod powered. People owe me a lot of fucking favors. If I can keep your pod powered until the war is over, I will. But people are dying every day, Mom. And I_ know _you. If you had to choose between giving up the life you already thought you lost and saving someone else’s life you’ll save them, even if they’re a complete stranger. That’s what you and Dad taught me. That’s what you both taught Scott._

Silent tears are running down Ellen’s face. Skylar is right. She is so right. That’s what the Ryder family did. They helped others, even at the expense of their own lives. Just like Alec did, to save their daughter when they first arrived in Andromeda.

Just like Scott.

It hurts, more than Ellen thought it would, to know that she won’t hear more of Scott in any of these videos. That he’ll never just walk behind Skylar as she’s recording and wave casually at the screen. That Skylar has lived a lifetime without her brother since then, and the rest of her life without her mother.

Ellen wipes the tears from her eyes and wonders if she’ll ever stop mourning.

#

“Hey there.”

Ellen looks up from the cafe table as an asari slips into the booth across from her. “Pelessaria B’Sayle?”

The asari grins and holds up her hands. “Please, Pelessaria B’Sayle was my mother. You can call me Peebee.”

“I appreciate you meeting with me—”

“You know what I would appreciate,” Peebee says, resting her chin on her hand. She’s still smiling, but it’s sharp. “I would have appreciated knowing you existed. Ryder never told me anything.”

Ah. When Kesh suggested that Ellen met with some of the other people who actually knew Scott and Skylar, Ellen made the assumption that the suggestions would all be people that had been Skylar’s _friends._ Clearly, she was mistaken.

“From what I’ve learned, only a few people knew of my existence,” Ellen says, placing her hand on her messenger bag, ready for a quick getaway if needed. Hopefully it won’t be.

“I’ve heard otherwise, but whatever,” Peebee says. She looks down at the table and her cheeks darken slight. “Wow, look at me, acting like a matriarch already, blaming you for Ryder’s choices.” Both elbows are on the table now as she rests her chin on interlaced fingers. She blinks slowly, the picture of innocence. “Sorry, can we start again?”

Ellen can’t help but laugh. “I’m Ellen Ryder,” she says, holding out her hand.

Peebee shakes her hand, beaming. “And I’m Peebee. Remnant archivist. At least, that’s what I’m calling myself today. Sometimes I’m a Remnant archaeologist. Remnant theorist. Or Remnant Researcher. That one’s cool cause alliteration.”

“And you served with Skylar?”

Peebee tilts her hand in a _kinda_ gesture. “I think Ryder thought of me more as an annoying stowaway. Like, after all the bullshit with the Archon went down, I went legit. The Initiative hired me and everything. I just don’t think Ryder expected me to be on the _Tempest_ so much. But whatever.”

“What happened between the two of you?” Ellen asks, unsure if it’s her place to even ask the question. Opening up healing wounds is simply not her intent.

“Long story short, I might have asked her to make a baby with me, which _wow_ , did she not appreciate,” Peebee says with a shrug. “That’s a whole other kit-n-kaboodle that I don’t really want to get into. But we ended things on a good note. You know. Before she…”

“Kicked the bucket?” Ellen asked wryly.

“You know, I was gonna go with something more respectful like _passed away_ or even just _died._ A classic,” Peebee says, smiling as she drums her fingers on the table. “I think I like you, Momma Ryder.”

Ellen can absolutely see why the asari in front of her and Skylar would not have gotten along. Peebee is the antithesis of everything Ellen remembers about her daughter. Though Ellen finds herself slightly charmed by the asari. She would never want to do any actual research with her, but the occasional outing over caf wouldn’t be unwelcome.

“Don’t ever call me Momma Ryder again,” Ellen says, raising one eyebrow. It’s a technique she spent years perfecting when she was young. Alec told her he fell in love with her thanks to that look. Granted, that’s not what Ellen is wanting to accomplish here at all by giving Peebee the _look_ , but the asari throws back her head and laughs.

“Oh, I really think I like you,” Peebee says. “ _You_ can take a joke.”

Ellen wants to defend her daughter, to tell Peebee that Skylar had a lovely, subtle sense of humor that sneaks up on you without warning. But Peebee knew Skylar for more than sixty years, while Ellen only had twenty.

Now, all either of them have is two hundred year old memories. Who is to say which version of Skylar is true?

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about your research into the Remnant?” Ellen asks. Her own classwork has mentioned the Remnants, but not in detail. There’s a mystery there, and Ellen always appreciates a good mystery.

“You, my new best friend, have asked a question I am always willing to answer.”

They don’t leave the table for another three hours.

#

Ellen throws her omni-tool screen up onto the wall to sort through her files better. After they released her from cryo, Hester helped find a technologist who transferred all of her files from her eight-hundred year old omni-tool into her brand new one.

There’s a paper she remembers, one of Doctor Verner’s—she still thinks about him sometimes, how he managed to disappear completely from the researching world—that she would like to reference in her next paper for her class in Advanced Bioelectrics.

She never really looked at the files that were transferred, mostly photos and research documents from her thirty-plus year career. The photos she simply couldn’t handle, not when her husband and children were lost to her forever. The research just wasn’t needed.

But now it is. The teams out here have forgotten some basic techniques in developing implants for humans and turians. Back in the Milky Way, this research would be considered quaint and outdated. In the Heleus Cluster? It could spark an implant revolution.

Ellen wants to be a part of that. Almost nine months have passed since they woke her up and told her _surprise, you lived but your family is dead._ Nine months of wondering what the hell should she do with herself. Besides research, she doesn’t have much else.

Skylar’s descendants still write to her all the time and Ellen still hasn’t written most of them back. It’s just, she doesn’t know what to say and when that happens, Ellen has always found it easier not to say anything at all.

Hope has encouraged her to explore a bit between breaks between classes, to really get to know the Heleus Cluster. She’s never been an explorer, not really. She dreamed of Andromeda because that was Alec’s dream. Biotic implants could be developed anywhere; Ellen didn’t quite care where she worked, as long as she and Alec were together at the end of the day.

So she stays on Meridian, where she knows she’s safe.

Research. Right. One thing Ellen takes immense pride in is her organizational ability. There’s simply no way to be a good researcher if you didn’t know where to find things.

She sees a file with a naming convention Ellen doesn’t recognize. A simple jpeg. Perhaps from the technologist? Ellen scans the file and there’s no malware or surprises to be found. Curious, she opens up the file onto the wall for better viewing.

The moment she recognizes Alec’s handwriting, Ellen sits back down on the bed to steady herself. Wondering if she is strong enough for this, she starts to read.

_Ellen, I hope I’m next to you when you read this, if only for a chance to explain. If I were any good at writing, I’d try to tell you in flowery words why I made this choice and maybe you would understand. It comes down to this. I don’t want to live in a galaxy where you don’t. I’ll do whatever I can to keep the kids safe, because I know you’d kick my ass if one of them got hurt. I love you. More than time, more than the galaxy, and more than anything else in the universe. Until we see each other again. And if we don’t? Forgive me._

She doesn’t move for a long time after that. Forgiveness. Alec wants forgiveness? It’s been nine months and Ellen still isn’t sure. The anger she started with, that she held close and nurtured, is gone. But acceptance isn’t forgiveness. Someday, she has no doubt that forgiveness will be in her heart.

But not yet.

With a flick of her wrist, Ellen takes down the note and changes the file name so it matches her usual convention. She takes a deep breath and searches for Verner’s research. She has a galaxy to make her mark on.

#

Ellen celebrates her fifty-eighth birthday with Hope, Hester, Phaidra, and their daughter Georgia. It’s a simple affair, as most celebrations in the Heleus Cluster are. Even after two hundred years, there aren’t supplies to create the lavish celebrations she took for granted on the Citadel.

Somehow, the care that everyone takes in the Heleus Cluster makes everything that much more special.

She tries to remember what her fifty-seventh birthday had been like. In Huerta Memorial, most likely, which is where she had most of her treatments. Scott and Skylar probably both called or at least left messages. Alec, well, Alec would have woken her up in the morning with breakfast in bed. In the hospital, that meant something from the cafeteria instead of whatever food services brought her.

Ellen does remember the iron certainty she had that she wouldn’t live to see her fifty-eight birthday. Amazing to think that she did, after all. As a present to herself, she watches the next of Skylar’s vids.

 _I turned fifty-eight years old yesterday,_ Skylar says, crossing her legs at the knee. _You’re only fifty-seven. I’m officially older than my mother._

Ellen pauses the vid, then holds her hands to her chest, looking at her daughter, now solidly in middle age. There are crow’s feet around her eyes and streaks of grey in her dark brown hair. She’s aging well, Ellen decides. But she had good genes. Neither Alec or Ellen looked their age back in the Milky Way. She’s not surprised that Skylar doesn’t, either.

“Wrong, my little robot,” Ellen whispers. “We’re the same age now.”

_I held my first grandchild the other day, Mom. Eddra. Ves is a dad. My baby is a father._

There are tears in Skylar’s eyes and Ellen finds herself tearing up as well. Watching these vids, watching the gradual transformation of Skylar as she continued to embrace the Angara attitude towards emotion, has been absolutely amazing. The Skylar Ellen knew would never have cried in front of someone. She would have bottled it all up and pushed it down until it no longer existed. As if her core was a black hole where no emotion could escape.

 _She’s so small, but Angara babies are always tiny. Got a set of lungs on her, though._ Skylar runs her hands through her hair and looks at the camera directly. _I’m so happy but at the same time, I’m absolutely furious when I think about you alone in that stasis pod. The older I get, the angrier and angrier I get at Dad._ _What if it’s another ten, twenty years before we can let you out?_

“Oh Skylar,” Ellen says, reaching out to brush Skylar’s cheek. She only brushes the wall, but it’s enough. “I know, my darling.”

But Skylar isn’t done. She stands up and starts to pace, still in view of the camera. _I think of all the things you’ve missed, and don’t get me wrong, I’ve tried so hard to include you in everything. But you’re still locked up and we’re no closer to finding a cure. Mom, we’re still recovering from the war. And that ended seven years ago. What if I die before a cure is found?_

Now Ellen is crying, too, as Skylar covers her face with her hands. Because that’s exactly what happened. Skylar left the universe without knowing her mother’s fate. It simply isn’t _fair._ But fair never really mattered in life.

 _If that had happened to me, if I ended up missing my babies’s entire life…_ Skylar is crying in earnest now as she sits back down in the chair, hugging her knees to her chest. _I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry he did this to you._

Ellen pauses the vid and lay back on her bed. She thinks of what she’s done this past year. Of hiding from family, except for the few she’s met in person. So many have reached out, humans, angara, several asari, and even a turian branch of the Ryder family tree.

She’s missing things. She’s missing people’s _lives._ From that vid, Skylar is despondent that Ellen missed Scout and Ves’s lives. Well, no more. Sitting up, Ellen blows her daughter a kiss. Then she brings up the family tree Hope had given her so long ago and gets to work.

#

The air is humid, far more humid than Ellen expects. Silly to be surprised with the amount of research she’s done on Havarl, the planet which became Skylar’s home. From what Ellen can tell from the vids, after Scout and Ves became adults, Skylar and Jaal left Meridian and planted roots on Havarl.

The Havarl Ryders, as they call themselves, have been inviting Ellen to visit since she woke up. Almost ten months have passed since they took her out of stasis and only now does Ellen feel sure enough in her skin to make the trip away from Meridian.

It’s strange to think how quickly she latched onto Meridian as her home. Not strange, she reminds herself. She woke up in a galaxy unfamiliar to her, surrounded by family she didn’t recognize. Is it surprising that she latched onto anything she could?

But after close to a year, she’s ready to branch out, to spread her wings, so to speak. Ellen steps onto the solid ground of Havarl, the first planet she’s walked on that isn’t Earth. Oh she’s been in space plenty. First a short stint at Arcturus Station, followed by the Citadel. Here in the Heleus Cluster, she’s only been on Meridian, which is a constructed world, not an actual planet.

This, Ellen thinks as she takes a deep breath, is another world. It truly hits her then, that she’s in another galaxy. The scent, though, the jungle humid scent, reminds her so much of Brazil, of the country of her birth, which she’ll never see again.

She thinks she’s going to like Havarl.

Many offered to meet her at the spaceport, but this is something Ellen wants to do herself. Trying not to look like an absolute clueless tourist, she finds her way to the taxi queue.

Thirty minutes later, Ellen stands in front of the house where Skylar and Jaal retired, which was passed down through the generations. The door opens before she even has a chance to knock.

“Ellen Ryder! You have returned at last!”

She’s brought into a large room, full of angara and more than one asari. After the fourth introduction, Ellen realizes that there’s no chance she’ll ever remember everyone’s name and hopes that they won’t find her lack of memory too rude.

Before long, Ellen is completely overwhelmed by the attention. There have to be close to twenty people in the room, if not more. When someone takes her arm and says, “I need help in the kitchen,” Ellen gratefully follows.

The kitchen has a door that closes and Ellen lets out a breath. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Angara family reunions can be a bit much for those not used to it,” the angara says. They’re older, looking closer to Jaal’s age in some of Skylar’s later videos. Blue skin that reminds Ellen of Ves. “I’m Tanaam and I am very happy to meet you, Ellen Ryder.”

“Thank you,” Ellen says quietly. She smiles. “You don’t really need help in the kitchen, do you?”

Tanaam shakes their head. “But you needed a moment away. I could tell. Your eyes—” Tanaam opens their eyes wide, like a deer in headlights, before smiling widely. “I figured I might be able to help ease your way.”

“Appreciate it,” Ellen says. “Now you are…”

“Depending on the day, I am the daughter or the son of Juunos, who was the child of Eddra who was the daughter of Vesoaan. Today I am a daughter. We share no blood, Ellen Ryder. But I still consider you _family,_ ” Tanaam says. Her voice is fierce and all at once, Ellen knows there is nothing Tanaam wouldn’t do for her family.

She and Alec would get along like a house on fire.

“I’ve seen some pictures of Ves and he’s been in a couple of vids Skylar made. You look like him,” Ellen says.

“Ah, the vids. You will hopefully get to mine someday. All I ask if you don’t hold my teenage years against me,” Tanaam says. “It was a very confusing time in my life and I do not think I was kind towards my parents.”

Ellen nods, knowing at the rate she’s going through the vids, it will be quite some time before she ever gets to Tanaam’s. But she’ll be able to have a relationship with Tanaam here and now. Which will be better than any vid.

“I think I’m ready to go back out there,” Ellen says. She takes a breath. She is. She definitely is.

“Here, take this bowl of punch. Then we won’t look like liars trying to escape the hoard.”

Together, they walk back out to the main room and Ellen meets her extended family.

#

“Here we are,” Hope says, placing her hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “This is Ryder-1”

Ellen says nothing as she looks out of the viewscreen down towards the planet below. The last stop on her Heleus Cluster tour: the planet named in her daughter’s honor.

“I put in a good twenty years on this planet,” Hope says. Ellen can hear the pride in her voice. “Geology was my specialty, working the soil so it was viable for crops.”

“I’m assuming it worked?”

“There’s fifty thousand people living down there now. It certainly did,” Hope says, squeezing Ellen’s shoulder.

“Did Skylar spend a lot of time here?” Ellen asks as they start walking towards the shuttle that will take them to the surface.

Hope shakes her head. “That doesn’t keep the leadership from claiming that Skylar terraformed the planet single handedly. There’s a museum.”

That stops Ellen short. She’s been awake for close to a year and she’s only now just hearing that there’s a museum about her daughter? “I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” Ellen admits.

“That can be arranged. There are attractions and everything. You can walk through a virtual vault, just like Skylar did. There’s even a shuttle ride that duplicates the first ride down to the surface. Jet pack required,” Hope says with a smile. “I’ve done that one, I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty fun.”

The shuttle ride is quick and they’re on the planet less than thirty minutes later. The first planet in Andromeda that Alec and Skylar had stepped on. And if she did her research right, the planet where Alec gave up his life so that Skylar could live.

If there’s a monument for him where he died, Ellen hopes she never finds out.

“The museum?” Ellen asks as they exit the shuttle. She can’t help it. Thoughts of exploring the place are out the window. Once she’s seen the museum, then she’ll be happy to be a tourist.

“Eager, I see. Well, if someone built a museum for Hester or Omar, I suppose I’d be eager, too,” Hope says with a laugh. “Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later, they’re standing in front of a prefab. Just the entrance, at least. Behind the prefab is a large stone-looking building. Manufactured, Ellen’s sure.

“What’s with the prefab?” Ellen asks.

“Some nonsense of the past, can’t forget the humble Andromeda origins, blah, blah, blah,” Hope says.

Hope kindly pays for their entrance fees and they walk inside. In the center of the foyer is a statue of Skylar, helmet nestled on her hip as she looks up to the stars. It’s absolutely lovely and if Ellen had to guess? Skylar would hate it. She hated taking snaps as she grew up. A statue?

They decide to go through the exhibits clockwise, and the first one is all about the _Hyperion._

“I wonder where they got all this information,” Ellen says, thinking how easily records can become lost and corrupted, especially after two hundred years.

“SAM helped, of course. They’ve always said that they’ve never been the same after Skylar died. This gave them something to focus on,” Hope says.

“Really?” Ellen asks. She starts to idly read one of the displays. “I wonder what they do now.”

_I advise the Initiative and serve as institutional memory for our time in Andromeda._

Ellen snaps her head towards the voice. She wonders where they are. She doesn’t see them. “SAM?”

_Hello Ellen. It is good to see you again._

“SAM? Is that really you?” Ellen asks, trying not to feel too guilty. SAM has reached out several times, asking to meet over the past year. Each time, Ellen made an excuse, not wanting to see them. Now that she hears their voice, she doesn’t exactly remember the reason why.

_I dedicate a small part of my consciousness to be available for questioning for those touring the museum. It is important to me that the real Skylar is remembered and not a fabricated ideal._

Now she remembers the reason. Because SAM was there for _everything._ They were there for all the moments Ellen couldn’t be. A year ago, her jealousy was irrational, but she wasn’t willing to confront it. But now she has a year of vids under her belt and is slowly rediscovering her family.

Perhaps she can reconnect with SAM as well. They were one of Alec’s greatest achievements, after all. And from everything she’s been told, they were Skylar’s best friend until the very end.

_Ellen, perhaps we could meet for a moment in SAM Node? The arrows will light the way._

She tells Hope where she’s going, with a quip to call security if she’s gone for longer than fifteen minutes. Curious to know what SAM wants to say, she follows the arrows and enters a sparse room, with SAM, the virtual SAM she remembers from the Milky Way, hovering in the center.

 _Welcome to SAM Node. This is the original room from the_ Hyperion. _Skylar and I would meet here often._

“You miss her, don’t you?”

_She was a part of me, even more than Alec ever was. Scout Ryder volunteered to host me in her stead, but by then, we had the technology for my mobile platform. I…I did not wish to join, for lack of a better word, with anyone else._

“I can understand that,” Ellen says. If her math is right (which it is) Skylar and SAM were joined for sixty-five years. If she was with someone for that long, she wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, either.

They share a few memories of Scott and Skylar and Ellen curses herself for staying away from SAM simply because she was jealous.

_You have been gone for fourteen minutes. Perhaps it is best to end the conversation now, before Hope Ryder calls security._

Oh of course SAM heard that. “I was only making a little joke, SAM. To ease the tension,” Ellen says, amazed at the guilt that now claws at her stomach. “When I’m back on Meridian, would you like to meet in person? I think— I think I would like that.”

And she realizes that’s true. She would like to know even more than just the vids have shown her about Scott and Skylar’s life. SAM was there for every single moment. Every laugh, every tear, every in-between moment.

_I would very much appreciate the chance to speak with you about Skylar. I miss her. Very much._

Ellen closes her eyes and she can sense the tears forming. Yes, she has met and talked to people who cared for Skylar. Peebee is a wonderful coffee date. And Kesh’s adult children will send an occasional meme. But they didn’t _love_ Skylar. Not like Ellen did. Does.

Not like SAM does, too.

“Good,” Ellen says quietly. “She deserves to be missed.

_We are very much in agreement there. I will send you an extranet message so we can arrange a time to meet._

“Thank you, SAM,” Ellen says, gripping onto the railing in front of her like a lifeline. She takes a breath. The scent of recycled air in SAM Node brings back memories of all her time living in space stations. It seems no detail was too small for SAM to include. Just was Skylar deserved.

With a nod, she turns and walks towards the exit. As she does, she hears SAM say something she heard hundreds of times as Alec tinkered and tried to improve the AI.

_Logging you out._

#

Between meeting with her new friends and family, plus her classes and research, far too much time has passed before Ellen has a chance to watch another video from Skylar.

After eighteen months, seeing her daughter’s face doesn’t hurt nearly as much. It’s almost fascinating to see the differences as she aged. When Skylar was young, she had mostly Alec’s features. A strong jaw, a beautiful nose. But as she’s grown older, Ellen sees more and more of herself in Skylar’s features. It’s comforting, somehow. To look at Skylar and to see herself reflected back.

Ellen throws the omni-screen up on the wall and sits down. The vid starts and immediately, she closes her eyes. Skylar is holding a black card. Ellen’s mind races, trying to figure out what it might entail. One of her children? Her grandchildren? At last count, Skylar has five grandchildren. Ves had a daughter and two sons and Scout had identical twin daughters. Ellen was absolutely delighted when Skylar told Ellen the news, so pleased that twins were still running in the family.

 _It took me a while before I had the strength to make this video, Mom,_ Skylar says, running her hand through her hair. She’s sitting tailor-style on her bed, wearing what looks like to be sleeping clothes. Ellen glances down at her omni-tool to confirm the date. In this video, Skylar is seventy-six years old.

_Jaal is dead._

Ellen pauses the vid and closes her eyes, tears already forming. Jaal died more than a hundred and twenty years ago and yet the news of his death from Skylar is absolutely devastating. A part of her—an absolutely irrational part, Ellen will admit—is jealous of her daughter. Skylar mourned her husband surrounded by people who loved and cherished her.

Ellen mourned her family among strangers.

And she was so _angry_ coming out of that stasis pod _._ Thankfully, time had dulled that pain to an ache she can easily tolerate. That, and she’s forgiven him. Ellen stares at the wall for a moment, letting that realization wash over her. She’s forgiven Alec.

Somewhere over the past eighteen months, she forgave Alec for what he’s done. Maybe not all at once. Ellen imagines it took vids from Skylar and meeting her family and her classwork. But she has. She has forgiven him.

She lets go of the jealousy and presses play.

 _He died saving people’s lives, which is how he wanted to go._ Skylar laughs and shakes her head. _Well, that’s what he told other people. He told me his dream was to die in bed with me. Sounded nice for him, but not so nice for me._

_That’s the problem, isn’t it? You can have the most beautiful love story in the galaxy and no matter what happens, there’s always an end. Angara have longer life spans than humans, so I always assumed I’d be the one to go first. That comforted me, you know? That I wouldn’t have to live in a world without Jaal._

Ellen thinks back to the note Alec left in her omni-tool, back in the Milky Way. _I don’t want to live in a galaxy where you don’t._ Skylar’s anger towards Alec hasn’t dissipated over the years. If anything, it’s grown more intense. But this? Skylar and Alec are more alike than she thought.

Skylar flops back onto the bed and the camera drone follows, so it’s looking right down at her. _I haven’t been handling things well, I’ll admit. I don’t think I’ve gotten dressed in—_ Skylar looks thoughtful as she silently counts her fingers — _five days? But that’s not too much to ask, is it? One private day of mourning for every decade of marriage?_

“It’s not, Skylar,” Ellen whispers. Fifty years. Even she and Alec were married only for twenty-four years.

_But I’m grateful for every damn day he and I had together. Even the bad ones. You had that with Dad, right? The good days made the bad ones worthwhile?_

Ellen nods, even though her long-dead daughter is not alive to see. There were... a lot of bad days in her marriage to Alec, even though she knew what she was getting into, falling in love with an N7 operative. She thinks back to raising twins on the Citadel, how she ended up having to breastfeed when she planned on using bottles, simply because delivery of fresh formula was so sporadic. She couldn’t depend on the deliveries and her babies had to be fed.

Yes, there were moments that caused her to want to tear her hair out. Broken promises on both their sides and trying to do too much instead of too little, which often ended up meaning doing nothing at all.

But then there were the moments she holds close in her memory. The first time she left Earth, and they were on Arcturus Station. There’s a tourist attraction there, where you can walk on a platform that juts out of the station. The entire thing is made from transparent aluminum and Alec took her out there and for the first time, Ellen truly understood just how huge the galaxy truly was. The first time they felt Scott or Skylar kick in the womb, when it really hit Ellen that even though humans have been around for millions of years, there have been no humans like the ones she and Alec created together.

 _I don’t know when you’ll see this. More and more, it’s looking like I might not be around when you finally come out of the stasis pod. I hope I’m wrong and you can nudge me on the shoulder if we’re watching this together and say_ pessimist. _I’ll own it. Happily._

Skylar sits up and looks off into the corner. _Losing Jaal has made me think a lot about things, about what your life will be like when you’re… Out? Awake? I’m not sure what’s the right term. I want you to be happy, Mom. You’re only fifty-seven years old. Take it from me, your senior, you’re practically a baby._

Skylar smiles for the first time in this video. She puts her hand to her cheek. _Huh. Wasn’t sure I could still do that. Good to know I can._ Skylar leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. _A million years ago, you gave me some very good advice:_ fall in love. _Well, I’m handing that advice right back to you. You’re young. You have so much love to share. Don’t be afraid to try._

Ellen watches Skylar end the video. She walks to the window and stares out over Meridian for a very long time.

#

“Garai?”

Ellen can’t quite believe how nervous she is. She is fifty-eight years old, not a teenager dealing with their first crush. And yet here she is, practically wondering if she’ll have a date to the Sadie Hawkins dance.

“Hello, Ellen,” Garai says, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

She can feel herself blushing but doesn’t bother to mentally scold herself. He really is a good-looking man. Dark skin with warm brown eyes. The only hiccup is that she’s not sure of his age. Garai is that indeterminate age where he could be fifty. Or eighty. The beginning of middle age is strange for humans these days.

They met by chance, two months ago, in the student lounge. Ellen was between classes and Garai was waiting for his painting class to start. When there were no free tables, Ellen asked to share Garai’s table, promising to be quiet. They ended up talking so long that Ellen was late to her next class.

Since then, they’ve met twice a week in the lounge, just talking and sharing stories. He’s divorced, with a son in his early twenties. His ex-husband moved to Kadara after the divorce and their son goes to school on Aya. Garai does something involving logistics for the Initiative and paints in his free time.

Ellen finds him very calm to be around. She likes calm.

“Do you remember, the other day, when you kindly… “ Ellen pauses and takes a breath. She was a leading researcher on human biotic implants. She’s been the keynote speaker at more than a dozen conferences. Even here in Andromeda, her expertise is starting to be sought out more and more. She’ll be presenting at her first conference on Eos next month. She can accept an invitation from a kind person, damnit.

“Asked you out to dinner?” Garai asks, a smile still on his face. His voice is light, a tenor. So very different from Alec’s baritone that demanded attention.

“Yes, that,” Ellen says, interlocking her fingers on her desk. “I wanted to answer earlier, but I realized I don’t have your contact information.”

“We could change that, if you’d like,” Garai says.

 _Oh, he’s smooth,_ Ellen thinks with a grin. “I would like that, yes,” she says, steeling her spine. She can do this. “And I would very much like to go to dinner with you. Sometime. When you’re free.”

“Good,” Garai says and he smiles brightly.

Ellen wondered, at first, if there was any point to trying to date. She was essentially a novelty, a human relic from another era, not to mention the mother of the human Pathfinder. And she did go out on dates on two separate occasions, friends of friends of Hope’s. But neither one of the people she met seemed willing to deal with the baggage that is Ellen Ryder.

And she admits, there’s a lot.

But Garai? He listens. And Ellen _knows_ he does, based only on the types of questions he asks. Now, it’s stupid to compare, but she can’t help it. How many times did Ellen launch into a story, only to realize halfway through that Alec wasn’t paying attention. His fatal flaw, as far as she was concerned.

“I happen to be free tonight.”

Ellen blinks and tries to keep her composure. Somehow, she didn’t think _soon_ meant _tonight._ But she decides that she’s not getting any younger. “That would be lovely. I won’t be able to stay out too late, though. I have a paper due tomorrow. I need to do some serious revising.”

The words hopefully don’t sound like too much of an excuse. Revisions are important and Ellen takes her university work seriously. She’ll be graduating soon and has several labs all vying for her attention once she does. She’s forgotten what it’s like to be so much in demand professionally.

Garai sends her his contact information, via omni-tool. “I hope you won’t mind, but I’m a vegetarian.” He presses another button on his ‘tool. “This is my favorite restaurant on all of Meridian. Shall we meet at seven?”

Ellen brings up her own ‘tool and accepts the invite, slotting it neatly into her calendar. She’ll need to rearrange some of her study time, but that is done easily enough. “It’s a date,” Ellen says and she can feel her heart expanding, just as it should.

Around them, students are busy studying and laughing, just enjoying the chance to be students. From what Ellen has learned of the Heleus Cluster’s history, this is only a recent development. Too many resources had to be used in order to survive after the Kett war. But now, finally, people have the chance to learn because they want to, not because they _need_ to.

Like Ellen. Back in the Milky Way, she ended up studying eezo and biotics by accident. When the Prothean ruins on Mars were discovered, Ellen was twenty years old and planning on becoming a doctor. Her mentor ended up becoming one of the leading researchers on eezo and human biology and took Ellen along for the ride.

But now? Now she _wants_ to study the effect of eezo in Andromeda. She _wants_ to help improve the implants biotics are using, because she can, not because humans started to die from eezo exposure at an awful rate, simply because no one understood the consequences.

“You know, I'm thinking of throwing a graduation party for myself,” Ellen says.

The moment the words come out of her mouth, her initial thought is to reject them. To say _never mind, I didn’t mean it_. But why not? Why not celebrate the more than eighteen months she’s spent studying and learning and processing life here in Andromeda? She could combine it with a family reunion of sorts, inviting all of the Ryders she keeps in touch with, all over the Heleus Cluster. Even the Ryders that she hasn’t met yet.

The more she thinks about it, the more she likes the idea. Ellen has never been the one to try to find the spotlight. But that was her life back in the Milky Way. She can’t think of one single reason why she shouldn’t throw a party and remind the entirety of Andromeda that she’s here.

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Garai says. He leans towards her in that way of his that tells her he’s truly paying attention. “What sort of party do you have in mind?”

Ellen smiles, and thinks of her family. “I think it’s time for a family reunion.”

#

Ellen stares at the file and can’t decide if she’s ready to press _play_ or not. This is the vid she’s been dreading above all others. The one that she’s been purposely putting off for such a long time. Tomorrow she’ll be graduating with an advanced degree from the University of Meridian. The day after, she’ll celebrate with family from all over the cluster.

But before she does any of that, she has a vid to watch.

The last vid with Skylar’s name on it.

Ellen doesn’t know what to expect, if it will be Skylar herself or perhaps Scout or Ves, giving Ellen the news that Skylar is dead. She’s not sure which she would prefer.

She double checks the date of vid. 2884, which means Skylar would only be eighty-seven years old. Considering humans have a lifespan of a hundred and twenty years here in Andromeda, eighty-seven seems impossibly young.

Taking a deep breath, Ellen looks around her small studio to ground herself. A lifetime of living in cramped quarters, first in Brazil, then on the Citadel, means she embraces minimalism practically as a religion. The one exception is her family tree.

On one wall, Ellen has snaps of her children through five times great grandchildren, arranged in a traditional family tree. It takes up almost an entire wall, but Ellen wouldn’t take the snaps down for anything. They keep her focused. Help her _remember._

She presses _play._

“Oh my baby,” Ellen whispers, walking right up to the wall where she’s thrown the vid. She pauses the vid and tries to take in every detail.

Skylar is laying in what looks to be a medical bed of some sort. Her hair, which had been long in the last vid, is cropped close to her head and completely white. She looks like she’s aged forty years since her last vid, which chronologically was only two years ago.

Ellen tries to prepare herself and the vid starts once more.

 _Let’s get the bad news out of the way,_ Skylar says. She sounds so weak, causing Ellen’s heart to clench. _I’m going to die tomorrow._

_I’m trying to picture your reaction to that. Will you be confused? Angry? Accepting? It’s been so long, you see. Sometimes, I forget what you were like. I might not remember the little things, but I remember the important things. I remember love._

Ellen steps back and sits down right on her coffee table, not even bothering to wipe the tears that are already falling down her cheeks.

_I’ll be surrounded by family. Ves and Scout and all of the grandkids. Five of them, Mom. Five beautiful grandchildren all content with their lives. I’ve been so lucky._

_Here are the technical details, if you want them. If not, skip ahead thirty seconds or so._

Ellen puts her hands under her thighs so she’s not tempted to skip. Anything her daughter wants to share is a gift, and Ellen will treat it as such.

_This is my choice. I’m sick. We think it has something to do with all the profiles in my head. It’s sort of like AEND but an Andromeda version. Long story short, I’m in a great deal of pain and from what we know of this disease, it’s going to get worse very quickly and it will be ugly._

_SAM will be the one to help me move on. They will simply stop my heart. They’ve done it before._ Skylar smiles and looks like she’s lost in a memory. _I have so many stories I wish I could tell you, Mom. I’m sorry I’ll never have the chance._

_Going back to SAM. I said no at first, because I didn’t want them to have to live with that, you know? But they insisted. They’ll have a mobile platform soon._

Skylar closes her eyes and Ellen can almost see the private conversation going on between her and SAM. To think that the two of them had been cohabiting Skylar’s brain for so long.

_Please take care of them, Mom. I’m so worried about what’s going to happen to SAM when I’m gone._

Ellen pauses the vid then and stands up, interlacing her fingers behind her head. She’s never been more grateful in her life that she let go of her jealousy of SAM. They talk almost daily now, mostly through messaging, but the occasional in-person outing, as well. SAM has become a part of her family, just as much as Hope or Hester.

“SAM’s okay, baby,” Ellen whispers to the vid, thankful beyond words that she was able to help grant her daughter’s dying wish, without even realizing it. “They’re okay. I promise.”

The vid starts up again and Skylar looks more alert than she did at the start, sitting up a little straighter, as if she has important knowledge to share.

_I haven’t spoken about this much in the vids, but I’ve embraced the angara concept of reincarnation. It’s given me a great deal of comfort over the years, especially since Jaal died._

_Souls stay in the family, Mom. Our souls will meet again. I’m sure of it. I’m not sure how or who. Just know that when you wake up, I will be out there, somewhere in the galaxy._

_You will not be alone._

Ellen has no choice but to pause the vid; she’s crying too hard, hard enough that she worries she’s going to start hyperventilating. She walks over to the wall with the family tree and focuses on Skylar’s picture. It’s the Skylar Ellen remembers when she was alive back in the Milky Way. Young and excited to learn what was out there.

Her eyes drift over to Scott. It’s a picture of when he was young, too. Though he died so much earlier than he should have. Both Scott and Skylar did. She misses them so much. Even though she knows they both lived full lives, Ellen doesn’t think that particular ache will ever go away, not for the rest of her life.

She’s calmer now, no longer sobbing and wondering if she’s already met the soul of her son and daughter. Ellen is ready to see the end of the last vid her daughter made.

_There were times I thought I should end things, especially during the war with the Kett. I thought about letting you die naturally, like you probably thought you did back in the Milky Way. But Mom? I’ll be honest. I’m glad you’re alive. And I’m glad that even though we never spoke once in Andromeda, that you’re here. I hope you remind everyone what humans from the Milky Way can do._

Skylar’s leaning back in her bed by then, her energy clearly gone. _I love you, Mom. And I know you love me, too._ She waves once at the camera, and the vid ends.

Ellen sits in front of the family tree wall for a very long time, looking at her family, and makes a decision. She’ll watch Ves’s vids next. And then Scout’s. After that? She’ll see where the wind takes her.

#

“I’m very proud of you,” Garai says, kissing her cheek. Ellen blushes, because that’s apparently what she does now, blush at everything Garai does that shows her that he’s actually interested in her as a person.

She’s been blushing a lot these days.

“Thank you,” Ellen says, squeezing his hands.

Ellen graduated from her advanced degree program only yesterday. She’s giving herself a month off to travel with Garai, and then she’ll start her work for the Initiative, researching eezo and electromagnetic waves.

To say she’s excited at what she might find is an understatement.

But first? First, she has a party to attend. SAM, bless their soul, did most of the planning. Ellen wanted to, really she did, but then with schoolwork and her budding relationship with Garai, there simply wasn’t any time. SAM said that their graduation gift to her would be planning the party, and Ellen couldn’t ask for a better gift.

“Ready?” Garai asks, holding out his arm.

“As I’ll ever be,” Ellen says.

This is a big step for them both. Garai has not met any of Ellen’s extended family and she has not met his son. That will be changing tonight.

Over one hundred Ryders will be at the party tonight. Most she has met, even if it was just a quick get together, like on Havarl. But there are a number of Ryders, she hadn’t met and hadn’t even heard of. Apparently there was a schism in the family a hundred years ago and that branch of the family had been lost.

Until now. SAM found them and invited them. And Ellen was delighted to hear that almost all of them accepted.

They travel by skycar to the small banquet hall that SAM reserved. The dress code is casual, so Ellen is wearing a fitted jumpsuit in a lovely maroon color, what apparently passes as fashion in Andromeda right now. Garai wears a bright blue dashiki over white trousers. She likes to think they look good together.

Ellen takes Garai’s arm again as they walk into the banquet hall. The moment she’s recognized, cheers and applause ring out. There are so many faces she recognizes from this journey that started more than two years ago.

Kesh, Peebee, SAM. Those who remember Skylar, the person that she was, not, as SAM called it, _a fabricated ideal_.

And then there’s all of the Ryders, human, angara, several asari, and that turian branch of the family tree. Ellen looks around and shares a smile with Hope, who stands with her arm around Hester and holding Omar’s hand. Nearby is Tanaam, a son today, and looking at Ellen with pride on his face.

That’s when Ellen truly embraces Skylar’s last words to her: y _ou will not be alone._

Ellen beams at all the friends and family gathered here to celebrate and _knows_.

The souls of her children are with her every day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/thievinghippo) or [tumblr](https://thievinghippo.tumblr.com)


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